


pau ka pali, hala ka luuluu kaumaha (past the precipice, past the fears)

by icoulddothisallday



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Military Homophobia, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Tani/Junior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 00:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icoulddothisallday/pseuds/icoulddothisallday
Summary: Junior's gotten used to McGarrett's nightmares, but this one leaves the man too shaken for Junior to stand back and let is pass. He does the only thing he can think to do -- call Danny. In the process, he learns a thing or two about what it is to love someone.





	pau ka pali, hala ka luuluu kaumaha (past the precipice, past the fears)

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that Junior is mildly homophobic in this fic, but he's aware and working on it.

Junior wakes to a loud clattering sound and a thump.

Once he would’ve startled and gone for his gun, but this is far from the first time this has happened since he moved in with McGarrett. Just another nightmare. Junior lies awake, listening for the things that come next — the closet door opening and closing, the squeak of the stairs, the back door opening — as Steve heads out for a gruelling middle of the night run.

In the morning, he’ll be overly cheerful and annoyingly energetic, and Junior will wonder if anyone really knows Steve McGarrett.

The regular sounds don’t come. Junior waits and waits, tension building as he does. But all he hears are two loud thumps against the wall and then eerie silence. He throws off the covers and pads out the door and down the hallway. He hesitates outside McGarrett’s bedroom door. He’s pretty sure he’s not welcome there. But this man is _brother, father, mentor_ to him all rolled into one. He can’t just let it go.

He knocks. He can hear Steve startle, limbs hitting wall and floor in an irregular pattern.

“I’m fine,” McGarrett croaks. He’s not fine.

Junior opens the door. Steve’s sitting against the wall, washed out in the pale moonlight that’s pooling on the floor. His knuckles are bleeding, his shirt is sweat soaked. There’s a familiar and terrifying emptiness in his eyes. Junior’s seen it before — in his teammates eyes after the worst ops, in his own after losing his sister — but he doesn’t know how to help McGarrett, who would never want anyone to see him this way.

“Junior,” Steve says shortly, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Leave. Now.”

Closing the door, Junior sinks back against the wall, not sure what to do. He can’t just leave him like this, but he’s clearly not welcome.

Junior can really only think of one person who might be welcome, who might be able to shake Steve out of the dark place he’s clearly in. Going back to his room, he picks up his cell and brings up Danny’s number. Junior’s never called Danny outside of work, and he hesitates a moment. What if Danny’s got his kids tonight?

But there’s not really another choice to be had, so he dials. Danny picks up on the second ring with a gruff, “Williams.”

“Danny,” Junior says, hating the way his voice sounds nervous, rough with emotion.

“Junes?” Everybody’s picked up that nickname, now, and it makes him feel more at home than he has in a long time. “What’s wrong?” Danny’s instantly alert, and Junior can practically see him scrabbling for his gun.

“Steve. He had a nightmare. He says he’s fine but he’s not — I’m sorry for calling, I just didn’t —”

“Fuck,” Danny swears. “That stubborn bastard. I _told_ him to call me if things got bad. But _no,_ of course he couldn’t ask for help for once in his goddamn life. I’ll be there in 15.” Danny hangs up abruptly and Junior collapses on his bed like a puppet with its strings cut.

It takes precisely 15 minutes until Junior hears the camaro roar into the driveway. Danny’s got his own key, and Junior can hear him letting himself in. Even so, Junior comes down the stairs to meet him. He’s worried that Steve hasn’t come out of his room — can’t imagine a scenario where McGarrett would knowingly sit still while someone came into his house, even if he somehow knew it was Danny.

Danny’s still wearing his pajamas — sweats and a t-shirt — feet stuffed hastily into shoes and hair in disarray. Junior’s never seen him like this — he’s always so put together. Clearly he rolled out of bed and came straight here when Junior called.

Junior kinda wonders if he has anyone who would do that for him, if he had a nightmare he couldn’t shake.

“He’s in his room,” Junior says softly. “I think he punched the wall. His knuckles are bleeding.”

Danny nods, not looking surprised. “I’ve got this Junes, go back to bed.”

Unlikely, Junior thinks, watching Danny takes the stairs two a time. He waits until he hears the bedroom door open and close before heading up, creeping down the hallway, and getting just close enough to listen. He tells himself he just wants to make sure McGarrett’s okay.

He’s mostly just a nosy bastard.

“C’mon, babe,” Danny is saying. “Up you get, you’re way too fucking old to be sitting on the floor and I’m way too fucking old to be hauling you off it. Sit your ass down on this bed.” Junior can hear the springs creaking. A moment later, they squeak again and Junior can imagine Danny sitting down beside Steve. He wonders if Danny’s put an arm around him, like he’s seen them do so many times before.

“What,” Danny mutters, just barely loud enough for Junior to hear, “Now you’re too good to lean on me? C’mere, don’t pull away. You’ll hurt my feelings. Yeah, there we go. God, you’re fucking heavy, do you keep bricks in your brain, it would explain a lot. Close your eyes, it’s fine. We’re good.”

Junior tries to picture what’s happening — Steve’s head on Danny’s shoulder? — but it’s hard to imagine McGarrett leaning on anyone that way. Yeah, he’ll throw a casual arm around Danny and he’s the first to offer a kind, comforting word when it’s needed, but Junior doesn’t think he’s ever seen McGarrett get emotional or take comfort from anyone.

“Was it the same dream as always?” Danny asks after a few moments, voice quiet. Steve must nod or something, because Danny responds, “Aw, babe. I’m so fucking sorry, that one’s so brutal. God your brain is so fucking cruel to you sometimes.”

For some reason, it startles Junior to think about Danny knowing the intimate details of a nightmare. Junior can’t think of many people _he’d_ tell that shit to, and he likes to think he’s a little more emotionally adjusted than McGarrett is. He knows Danny and Steve are close — everyone does — but he hadn’t realized they were _that_ close.

Slowly, quietly, Junior sits down, leaning against the wall. Tani’s said sometimes she thinks they’re fucking or whatever, but Junior couldn’t imagine that. Now, hearing the low, intimate tone of Danny’s voice, faced with the evidence of how much Steve trusts Danny, he wonders.

Junior likes to think he’s evolved past his military background and upbringing, likes to think he’s okay with however people lead their lives and whoever they love. In the privacy of his own head, though, he can admit that it startles him to think McGarrett might be gay, or whatever, and makes him a little uncomfortable.

It’s stupid, he knows, and he tries to shut it off.

“Babe,” Danny’s saying softly. “It’s okay. Please, c’mon. Just let it go. I’m here, alright. Steve, please don’t bottle this up. It’s just going to eat at you, I know it will. Let me help.” Junior shifts, uncomfortable with the level of raw emotion in Danny’s voice. He should get up, leave. This is none of his business.

He doesn’t move.

After a moment, he hears a choked off sob, and then another. Junior balls his hands into fists, bites his lip. It shakes something at the very core of him to hear Steve like that. Steve’s the man he looks up to most, respects the most. Steve’s the man he’s based his whole civilian life off of. To hear him sounding so fucking broken makes the foundations of Junior’s whole life tremble.

“You’re alright.” Danny’s voice is calm, like he’s weathered this before. “We’re alright. We’re all safe, okay? Grace and Charlie are safe in their beds. Mary and Joanie are probably just going to bed. We can call them in the morning. Doris is far away from here —” the names sounds vaguely familiar, but Junior can’t place it “ — and Wo Fat is dead. He’s not going to hurt any of us again. And you’re not going to hurt any of us either.”

Junior bites back a noise of protest. Does Steve really think that? Really _dream_ that?

“I love you,” Danny says. “I love you so much, Steve. And we’re gonna get through this, just like we always do. But you have to call me, you can’t do this shit. And if you won’t call me I’m gonna just move my ass in here.”

“Junior —” Steve croaks, his first word since Danny showed up.

“He’ll get over himself. If he doesn’t know we’re fucking, he’s a damn idiot.” Junior starts, somehow shocked by the language and the admission. McGarrett can’t be gay, Junior thinks, he’s too —

A voice that sounds a lot like Tani whispers, _Don’t be a backwards military dumbass, Junes._ He already knew that Steve and Danny love each other, this is just an extension of that, and doesn’t change anything about them.

He does feel a bit like an idiot, though, for not putting two and two together. But it’s not like they live together or engage in any sort of explicit PDA. Junior wonders if that’s because of him, that if he weren’t there Danny would be here a lot more, that they might kiss and stuff. But McGarrett was clearly worried about how Junior might react, so maybe they didn’t because…

The thought makes him feel like absolute shit and he resolves to do better, to show them that he’s totally in support of their relationship or whatever.

“You know that’s not what this is,” Steve says roughly. “You remember what I was like, right when I got out.”

“Yeah.” Danny’s voice is unexpectedly sad.

Steve lets out a whistle of a breath and whispers, barely audible to Junior’s ears. “Not like that.”

“I know. Not everyone got as fucked in the head as you.”

“Shuddup.”

Junior leans back against the wall, suddenly exhausted by trying to follow this conversation, when he’s clearly missing at least half of the information he needs to make sense of it.

“Come lie down, babe. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep,” McGarrett says, too honest, too vulnerable for Junior to stand. He gets up. He shouldn’t be here.

“That’s okay. Just come here and let me hold you.”

The bed springs creak, there’s muffled whispering, the distinct sound of a kiss and then Junior walks away, headed for the guest bedroom that’s been his for the last couple of months. He lies awake in bed for a long time, before rolling over and grabbing his phone.

Carefully he taps out a text to Tani, _malasadas and coffee in the morning?_

Almost immediately, she texts back. _Of course. What’s up? You good?_

Junior closes his eyes and presses his phone into his chest. Maybe he does have someone who would come, if a nightmare hit him so hard.

 _Just want to see you,_ he types.

A minute later, he gets a row of smiling emoticons, interspersed with one middle finger. He laughs and turns over, letting his eyes close. Danny’s taking care of McGarrett, he’s seeing Tani in the morning, the pounding of the surf is loud outside his window.

All is well.

_fin._

 


End file.
